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A Tale of Two Mages: Part 11


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#1 Guest_Ophidia_*

Posted 11 September 2004 - 09:19 AM

An Enjoyable Partnership: A Tale of Two Mages


Part Eleven

Clang!

Nalia cursed in Thayvian as the candle bracket fell off the wall. She was taking down the green and white bunting that had been put up for the Ball, fiercely yanking the ropes down. It was really a servant’s job, but it was wrong to leave everything to the servants- they already worked so hard.

Nalia shook her head. Who was she fooling? She was only doing this job to distract herself. Normally, she did leave this job to the servants. Well, she paid them well and they were jolly glad of the money. And, of course, it was nice for them to work for such a benevolent employer as her…

She viciously ripped at more bunting, bringing a flurry of flags down on top of herself. She bundled them up, and sighed. She felt so empty. Empty and guilty. She knew she had done the right thing by drugging Edwin and locking him up- it was for his own good- but it felt like she had abandoned him. What was worse was the empty spot in her head. No matter where Edwin was, as her familiar there had always been a grain of his thoughts she could sense. But now, there was nothing. It was as if he was dead. Perhaps he was…

No, don’t start thinking like that! She said, and swallowed the lump in her throat. She pulled at more of the bunting, ripping a small but priceless tapestry off the wall as well.

“Lady Nalia, Lady Nalia!” A voice called, shrill with barely controlled hysteria. Nalia looked around in alarm. Kell was stood at the foot of her ladder, with a red face and found eyes.

“What? What is it?”

“A…At the door, milady…at the door…there’s,” Kell gulped, “Come and see, please, you must come!”

Nalia went cold. “Is it…is it the rakshasa? Tiger people?” Not now. Why does it have to be now?

“I know what rakshasa are!” Kell said with a brief flash of irritation. “But, no…it isn’t…please come!” Kell ran out without waiting to see if Nalia followed her.

Nalia started to follow her, then stopped, briefly. She dashed upstairs and grabbed her staff, then ran out of the huge main doors of the Keep. The great drawbridge was being lowered, and she could see figures standing beyond. Why had the guards on the bridge decided to let them in? A stupid decision if ever there was one.

The drawbridge dropped to the horizontal with a dull thud, and the waiting group advanced. Nalia’s eyes went wide with shock, and her mouth turned into an ‘O’ of disbelief.

***


Edwin opened his eyes. He could sense the powerful narcotic in his bloodstream still, but it no longer affected him. Was this a cell? De’Arnise had had some sense, then for all her much-vaunted loyalty. It mattered little. He understood now, understood it all. So much power at his fingertips, more than ever before. So easy, so simple. The whole world was open to him now- it was as if everything was far away, yet tiny and easily accessible. He sat upright in a sudden convulsive movement. A fluffy purple dragon cascaded off his lap, unnoticed.

He must complete his task. That was all that was important- and, after that, the final peace of oblivion. Yes, he longed for that more than anything else. Death and pain- he had suffered too long.

He stood up, and stretched his arms, looking at them as if he had never seen them before. They shook briefly, then were still. So much control! He was One now. The voices were gone, the whispered denials, the chorus of complainers. All gone.

He reached over, and grasped the corroded metal bars that caged him in. He closed his eyes in brief concentration, and the metal hissed and spat, then melted and flowed like quicksilver around his unburnt fingers. He smiled, narrow-eyed and triumphant. Soon, he would be free.

***


Nalia simply stood and stared at the group coming over the drawbridge. There in the front was Andorel and Minsc, followed by Keldorn and Anomen. Finally, at the back were Jan and Valygar. Keldorn sneezed.

Andorel spotted Nalia, and ran up to her. She stepped away from him uncertainly, holding her staff protectively in front of her.

“Nalia, we’ve got bad news, there’s these rakshasa things coming after you and Eddie!”

“Stay away from me!” She said, pacing backwards warily.

“What’s the matter?” Andorel asked. “We’re not your enem…” He looked over her shoulder and his expression changed. “Oh, shit!”

Nalia spun around. The other Andorel and his party had just come out of the Keep’s main door behind her. They stared for a second, then the Keep Andorel burst into laughter, throwing a half-eaten chicken bone over his shoulder.

“Nice one, guys! You did pretty well, although I don’t think you got my hair just right.” He said, snorting with mirth.

Nalia looked back and forth between the two parties, and backed away from them both, still holding her staff in front of her.

“I, I don’t trust any of you!” She shouted, and then pressed a trembling hand to her forehead. “I have have enough of this.” She said in a broken voice.

“Lady Nalia, I realise this must be very confusing for you, but I beg you to listen to us. We are your friends, not those foul impostors.” The newly arrived Keldorn begged. Nalia noticed that he had a hoarse, rasping voice, as if he had had a cold recently.

“Yeah, what he said!” The new Andorel said, nodding.

“I can’t tell any of you apart!” Nalia cried in dismay. “Just…just stay away from me, all of you!”

“Oh, c’mon Nalia, it’s obvious that they’re the rakshasa. Can’t you tell?” Andorel from the Keep said, gesturing wildly.

“Bite me, you stupid cannibal.” The other Andorel retorted, then blinked thoughtfully. “Um, actually forget I said that.”

“You know,” The Keep Jan mused, “This reminds me of the tale my Auntie Squiffy always used to tell…”

“SHUT UP!” Both parties cried in unison.

“I thought we were being followed in the swamp.” The New Valygar said darkly. “So, you observed us in order to take our forms and fool this poor innocent noble? What a base trick!”

“I’m not a poor, innocent…”

“No, you were following us!”

“Were not!”

“Were!”

“Were not!”

“Were!”

“Were not!”

“WERE!”

“Shut up, all of you!” Nalia shouted.

“But…”

“But…”

“ALL OF YOU BE QUIET!” Nalia screamed. Twelve faces turned to glare at her. She cleared her throat, and continued in a frighteningly normal voice, turning to the Keep Andorel. “Sing ‘A Tale of Two Mages’, Andorel.”

Andorel frowned in bafflement. “Huh?”

“Just do it!”

He rolled his eyes and grinned. “You’ve gone loopy, Nalia. It’s spending so much time with that mad wizard.”

“He is not mad!” She snarled, then stopped and shook herself. “Don’t try to distract me. I know that it was you that told the bard Yijin about us. You gave him the idea for the song in the first place, so I reckon you must know all the words. Sing it, Andorel.”

“But, but I can’t remember them! It was a long time ago…” The Keep Andorel stammered, backing away. “And I…I am not a good singer.”

There once were two mages, fair and foul,
One was a noble, one a bloodcowl,
They cast a spell, by mistake,
Found they were bonded, couldn’t break
.”

A cracked voice raised in song behind her. The newly arrived Andorel grinned at his clone. “Sorry, pal, you lost.”

The Keep’s Andorel snarled in response, his upper lip lifting ferally. He shuddered, and the illusions were suddenly dispelled. Nalia scuttled backwards to the safety of the newly arrived party and simply stared.

“Ergh, I danced with you!”

“It has been a pretty dance indeed,” Ruhk Ihtafeer said, his voice now low and hissing. “Did you enjoy your despair as you felt your hopes of defeating us fade? We watched you both and encouraged your doubts. Especially you, sweet noble.”

“I’ll fight you.” Nalia said, in a quivering voice. “Not just for me, but for what you did to Edwin. I’ll never let you win.”

The rakshasa grinned and lazily unsheathed its claws. Andorel’s party reached for their weapons.

The rakshasa did nothing to me.” An echoing voice filled with harmonics and sub-harmonics boomed across the courtyard.

Edwin walked out of the Keep behind the rakshasa. Ihtafeer spun around in surprise. Edwin’s face wore a fixed smile, and his robes billowed around him, blown by a personal breeze. Even from this distance, Nalia could sense the power radiating from him.

“E…Edwin? How did you get out?”

“You think your petty dungeon could contain me?” He said in the same deep, echoing voice. He dropped a handful of molten metal onto the cobbles of the courtyard, where it splattered and quickly congealed. “But first- you rakshasa are in my way!”

“What?” Ruhk Ihtafeer squeaked, his fur flattening in surprise. “But you promised to help us! You said…”

Edwin reached out his hands towards the rakshasa, and a white fire roared from his fingertips, engulfing the six humanoids. There was a brief animal screech, and the fire died out, leaving six piles of ash.

“You…you can’t do that! You…you just can’t! It’s…it’s impossible!” Nalia squeaked.

Edwin smiled lazily. “You really want to see what I am capable of, de’Arnise?” He gestured quickly upwards, rainbow sparks leaping high into the sky above the estate. “I have such resources now, resources you mortals only dream of.”

“M..mortals?”

Edwin nodded slowly. “Yes, I have shrugged off my mortality. Why should I be contained by a puny shell?”

“Edwin, you’re a human, you’re mortal! You’re Edwin Odesseiron, you’re my familiar!”

“Not any more.” He sneered. “You mean nothing to me.”

Nalia shook her head in despair. “The rakshasa, Edwin, they’ve been tormenting you. You’re human, you’re mortal!”

“No, it was never the rakshasa. Odesseiron thought it was them. I found it useful- once he decided it was the rakshasa tormenting him, he stopped fighting me. Stupid, complacent creature that he was.”

“You’re…you’re not Edwin?” Nalia asked, then her expression changed. “What do you mean ‘That he was’?” She snarled, holding her staff up aggressively.

“Nalia, what the Abyss is going on?” Andorel asked from behind her. Nalia ignored him.

“He is gone.” The creature said, baring its teeth in a rictus of triumph. “I have eaten his soul. He invited me in, and now he is gone. Forever.”

Nalia’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. She wanted to shriek, swear and curse the Gods, but she couldn’t even whisper. She dropped to one knee, gasping for breath and then looked up, new determination on her face. She held her staff tightly, and prepared to leap- but a strong hand grabbed her and held her back.

“Don’t attack it, you little idiot, it’ll just…just do whatever it did to them!” Andorel said, gesturing at the sad little piles of ash. Nalia tried to shake herself free of his grasp, but his grip was as hard as iron.

“Whatever you are, why did you have to attack us?” Nalia sobbed, still struggling. “What did we do to you?”

“What did you do?” The creature said, its eyes narrowing in insane anger. “You lived, while I died. How did you survive my Curse, de’Arnise?

“Died? Curse?” Nalia felt her mouth drop open in surprise, as all the pieces fell into place. The new robe, the hair, the speech patterns.... “Feredain?

“Perhaps you are not so stupid, de’Arnise.” The wraith said. “The rakshasa were useful- they offered me revenge. They showed me a way back, but I never intended to help them. I escaped from my Father’s grasp and clawed and fought my way back to the Prime material plane. I was an aasimar: I was always part-immortal. I had resources beyond his expectations. I used them.”

“You’re….you’re utterly mad!”

“Perhaps I am.” It said, its voice cracking with sudden pain. “Driven mad by my Father’s torments. He will never forgive me for ruining the life he gave me.” Its eyes turned bleak and despairing. “I remember dying. Then, I died again. And again. And again. Poisoning. Decapitation. Drowning. Burning. Stabbing…He took me to his Realm, and killed me, then resurrected me. Over and over and over and over…” Feredain shuddered and her borrowed hands clenched. “All I know is death and pain.”

Nalia hissed in disgust. “No doubt it’s just what you did to all your victims.”

“No!” It said sharply. “I have killed, but not many. Does that surprise you, de’Arnise? But my father…he has an imagination beyond mortal.”

“You didn’t deserve that,” Nalia said softly. “No one deserves that.”

“So, here I shall stay.” Feredain said, and her hands started to glow with silver fire. “This shall be my life. You wish to fight me for it? Another death is nothing to me- but everything to you.”

“I can’t let you stay. I’ll never let you stay!” Nalia cried, holding her staff up protectively, starting to circle Feredain.

“I expected nothing less, sister of my soul.” Feredain flicked a jewelled dagger out of her belt. “No magic, of course; we are still linked as familiars.”

I’ll never be your familiar!” Nalia screamed at her.

“Such uncontrolled passion, de’Arnise. No wonder you never truly mastered magery. Now, you never shall. But first- no distractions.” Her hand flicked out sideways. A stream of white fire engulfed Andorel’s party, Andorel bearing the brunt of it as it him him square in the chest. All six adventurers fell over and lay still.

Nalia didn’t dare spare a glance to see if Andorel and his friends were all right, and gripped her staff in readiness. Feredain’s eyes narrowed, and she feinted left with her dagger. Nalia refused to be drawn, however and kept her staff protectively in front of her. Then she went on the offensive, swiping forward with her staff. Feredain jumped back, and tried to circle around her, heading for her unprotected left side. Suddenly, she leapt forward, but Nalia raised her staff and forced her back, pushing her bodily with her weapon.

The battle continued, a thing of feints and deception, the two mages circling each other, not daring to use their magical powers, mortal or immortal. Sometimes, Nalia was certain she was going to win, at others, she was terrified of losing, but always, a thought circled her head:

What do I do if I win?

She couldn’t kill Edwin. She just couldn’t. Could she? Feredain said he was gone, utterly gone. How could Feredain have destroyed him? She had eaten his soul. Did that mean there wasn’t even an Edwin left to die? If she killed this creature in front of her who would she be killing?

Edwin, or Feredain?

Edwin or Feredain?

It was a tale of two mages, and their fate was her choice.




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